"If this blower has been burning long, the Stonies must know of it," Blake said. "Isn't it curious that no news of it has reached the settlements?"
"I'm not sure. They may venerate the thing; and, anyway, they're smart in some respects. They know that where the white men come their people are rounded up on reservations, and I guess they'd rather have the whole country to themselves for trapping and fishing. Then, Clarke may have persuaded them to say nothing."
"It's possible," Blake agreed thoughtfully. "We'll push on for their camp the first thing tomorrow."
CHAPTER XIX
THE DESERTED TEPEES
Starting at daybreak, they reached a hillside overlooking the Stony village on the third afternoon. Surrounded by willows and ragged spruces, the conical tepees rose in the plain beneath, but Blake stopped abruptly as he caught sight of them. They were white to the apex, where the escaping heat of the fire within generally melted the snow, and no curl of smoke floated across the clearing. The village was ominously silent and had a deserted look.
"I'm very much afraid Clarke's friends are not at home," Blake said with forced calm. "We'll know more about it in half an hour; that is, if you think it worth while to go down."
Harding and Benson were silent a moment, struggling with their disappointment. They had made a toilsome journey to reach the village, their food was nearly exhausted, and it would cost them two days to return to the valley, which was their best road to the south.
"Now that we're here, we may as well spend another hour over the job," Harding decided. "It's possible they haven't packed all their food along."
His companions suspected that they were wasting time, but they followed him down the hill, until Benson, who was a short distance to one side of them, called out. When they joined him he indicated a row of footsteps leading up the slope.